When Everything Feels Like the Movies

I leaned against the counter in the bookstore, propping my chin up on my fist and sighed.
It'd been about a week since the last time I saw Alan, since we fought, since I told him I loved him. I blushed at the memory. As sweet and cute as it was, I couldn't help but turn a little pink whenever I thought about that night. The next morning, we had cuddled in bed all day and just talked. It was like that fight had brought out all our secrets and just.. It was great to feel like we knew everything about each other. Like it was us against the world.
It felt strange though, not going over to Alan's every night after work. I needed time to think about where our... Relationship was going. I had laid in my bed every night this past week, staring at the ceiling. It was quiet and cold in the bed without a tiny ginger boy curled up against my side, a deep hiccuping sigh interrupting the silence every so often. It was during these deep nighttime musings that I realized that we were meant to be together.
So, after I had closed up shop for the night, I stopped by the nearest supermarket, bought a (very cheesy and stereotypical) bouquet of red roses, and ran over to Alan's house as quickly as I could. A music box containing a silver chain bracelet bounced against my thigh. I had bought it that morning at a tiny little jewelry store at the end of the block on the way to work; it was my promise to him that I loved him and would never leave him.
Taking the steps three at a time (I have awkwardly long legs, okay), I reached his doorstep in almost no time. Hurriedly knocking on the door, I adjusted my grip on the roses behind my back.
A minute passed.
I frowned, knocking again. Alan usually answered within the first few seconds.
Another minute passed.
Still, nothing.
"Alan? Are you in there?" I called, my voice echoing through the drably toned hallway.
I heard a muffled "Go away." from the apartment.
I sighed. "Alan, please let me in."
Footsteps shuffled closer to the door.
"Why, so you can stop talking to me again." The voice was closer, right up against the door and if I really tried, I could imagine him standing next to the door in his ratty plaid pajama sweats, the lack of a shirt showing off his tattoos to their greatest effect.
I leaned my head against the door. "I'm sorry I didn't talk to you. Don't ever feel like I ignored you, Alan. I just... I had to sort out my head and I kind of just shut myself off from everything."
"Whatever," came the muffled response.
"Are you going to talk to me at all tonight, Alan?"
"No."
"Is there something wrong, babe? Tell me," I begged, the pet name slipping from my lips easily.
I heard him snuffle, almost like he was choking back tears.
"Go home, Austin. I-I'm not in the mood to t-talk." He hiccuped his way through the words before I could hear his soft sobs through the door. My heart dropped to my stomach, leaving me breathless, almost lightheaded.
"Okay," I said, numbly. "I brought you something. Or somethings. I guess I'll leave it here then."
I set the roses down next to the box, making sure the note I had tucked in the box was still wedged tightly in it.
I gave the door one last lingering look before I shuffled away. I was halfway down the staircase when I heard a door quietly click open. I stopped, listening.
I heard the crinkle of cellophane, the quiet creak of the music box lid lifting. Iris by the GooGoo Dolls tinkled and echoed through the hall, floated down the staircase to me. I had chosen that song because our love was just like the movies. The moment we met, something stirred inside me that I couldn't name at the time but I could now. It was love. Love at first sight. And just like the movies, we'd have our troubles, our obstacles, but we'd always find our way back to each other.
I heard the soft thump of what might have been Alan's knees against his doormat, heard his quiet tears as the note crinkled in his hands and the links of the bracelet clicking together.
"Austin..." Alan's slightly mournful cry broke my heart but I shook my head and continued down the stairs.
He needs time to deal with whatever he's dealing with, I reasoned. He'll come get me when he needs me.